


Always Read the Fine Print

by JustAFigment



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien trying not to be a creep, Aged up (17-18), Aged-Up Character(s), I think the speed of this story constitues the tag, Identity Reveal, Masturbation definitely, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Not a PWP, Not your typical In Heat story, Tikki is not amused, eventually, he didn't read the fine print, inner mind theater, lots of awkward, masturbation probably, plagg being a troll, suggestive thoughts, unhelpful kwami warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-16 13:25:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAFigment/pseuds/JustAFigment
Summary: Reading the fine print is usually an important part of any contract. Especially magical contracts.Adrien Agreste did not do this. After jumping head first into his chosen's new superhero life, Plagg decided it'd be more fun to watch shenanigans unfold on their own instead of letting him know all the drawbacks that came with a certain magical ring. Eh, he'd figure it out.They always did, after all.------Tags will be added as needed!





	1. Warm Awakenings

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't mean for this to be my first posted fic of the fandom, BUT it's the first one with a postable part, so here's the little intro-first-chapter thing. It's pretty short for now, but I have a feeling this is gonna go places. Later chapters will be much much longer.

The first thing Adrien realized as he began the typical process of waking up after a longer than usual night patrol, thanks in part to an akumatized late-night fast food worker that was apparently fed up with the disrespect shown to people in their position of providing midnight sustenance to the night owls of the city, was that he was warm. Sweltering even. Second was the sound of his alarm clock screeching sweet nothings to him on his bedside table. Third, as he reached over to silence the insistent, grating noise box, was that two things were missing. Namely Plagg that was usually curled up somewhere on his head, though he was also known to sleep elsewhere occasionally, and the fact that the comforter and sheets that he’d assumed were the source of his currently overheated state had long since been kicked from the bed.

****

Odd.

****

Odder still was the lack of that icky feeling that usually happens when you sweat while sleeping. You know the one, where everything is just slightly sticky, and nothing feels right, and your hair ends up clinging tighter to your head, and just everything’s awful.   


  
Yeah, there was none of that. He was just way too warm. But from like, the inside out.   


  
A part of him started to wonder if he was coming down with something. Maybe that was why Plagg was avoiding him, to keep away from gross human germs or something. He scratched his head lazily and yawning a big, ugly yawn in the safety of his own room. No need for poise or class. In the few moments between waking and joining the all too civil world beyond his bedroom door, Adrien was more than happy to take a few indulgences. Arms rolled high above his head as he stretched, flopping back on the bed and slowly rolling across, teetering on the edge.    


  
A quick shift and he plopped down onto the floor with a self amused snort. The thought to continue rolling himself across the floor and into his bathroom lingered, but the hard cabinet that had his legs pinned against the running board around his bed suggested that actually getting up and walking would probably be a much easier method of transportation.   


  
A quick trip to the bathroom and some mild damage control to get his bed head back into shape and he was ready to begrudgingly greet the day. Or at least the part of the day that was ready to greet a growing teen with food.

****

 

 

Sitting at the long dining table alone, his father had already probably come and gone hours ago, it took only a few bites of food for his mind to begin to wander to the rooftops of Paris. The pull to rush back to his room and fling himself out his window as the black clad hero Chat Noir didn’t usually start to surface until the later hours of school if an akuma hadn’t surfaced somewhere in the city that morning. But it was like an itch. Deep and persistent. While he tried to focus on the meal in front of him, eggs, some fresh fruit, a small portion of oatmeal with the tiniest bit of brown sugar and dried cranberries to make it less of a bland scoop of slop essentially, it was nearly unyielding. Breakfast was usually the least health-focused meal of the day for him, usually loading him up with the carbs and sugars he’d need to get him through to a ‘well balanced’ lunch and then his extracurriculars. 

****

But the feel of the wind whipping past his face as he gave chase. The blur of red ahead of him, hot on her trail, muscles burning as he followed her over rooftops and leaping across the gaps between buildings, gaining, ever closer.

****

Reaching out and finally catching her and then-

****

His body jerked into a sudden stillness, a forkful of food hovering halfway between his mouth and the plate.   


  
And then he’d have her.   


  
His eyes were wide and unfocused as his brain rolled the different meanings of that phrase around in his head. Pupils dilated slightly at the silent promise of that victory, his hand lowering back to the table. It set a low heat in his stomach, and lower. He’d  _ have  _ her. 

****

He pushed back on the table so quickly it made the char under him squeak, snapping him back to himself at the sound as the heat inside him turned sour in realization. Adrien gripped at the table edge, staring at the plate of unfinished food. He was breathing harder than he should. His pulse was racing. He was too warm. He wanted to run.

****

“What’s going on...” He mused to himself, looking around as if the place setting in front of him would hold all the answers.   


  
_ Where’s Plagg? _ _  
_

_  
_ This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole story SHOULD span about a weeks time for catson, maybe a bit longer. I've got a bunch of plot points laid out and ready to push around here and there, but it's still relatively open ended with some wiggle room. Feel free to drop me a comment or something if there's anything you might want to see incorporated but if an idea strikes my fancy, well, I'll definitely let people know who's to blame for it in upcoming chapters~
> 
> https://showmeyoureros.tumblr.com


	2. Something Fishy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone that's put in ideas from the last chapter! There's a bunch of great stuff in there that will DEFINITELY be making it in, in some form or another >w> I just gotta figure out how exactly. Some of the stuff mentioned was already on the playing field, but some of it was stuff I'm sad I hadn't thought of myself (especially ONE VERY SPECIFIC THING and I'm kicking myself about it already because how could I NOT add that >w<)
> 
> Anywho, here's the rest of Adrien's morning routine. It's not the most exciting chapter, but this one's gonna be a bit of a slow build up as far as his symptoms go. It should definitely start getting more fun with the next chapter though.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: ok, so it ate my Italics formatting for thoughts. Had to add those back in cause I'm dumb and didn't notice it at first.

The following hour passed by with excruciating clarity. For the first time since becoming Chat Noir Adrien realized he couldn't avoid pinpointing the steps of every attendant ghosting just out of sight. One maid was hovering in the less used hallway to tidy the room after he'd leave for his morning exercises, a member of the kitchen staff kept pacing back and forth between there and the dining hall ready to collect his plates, and somewhere else in the house he could hear the tell tale double taps of Nathalie's heels against the marble flooring, striding with a purpose. His father must be agitated already this morning.

It was distracting, but only enough to bring Adrien's own agitation into play. His kwami was nowhere to be seen. _Is he still sleeping?_ The teen frowned. It wouldn't be unusual, but the small cats absence was putting him on edge already.

Meal only half eaten, he fled back to his bedroom, roiling with excess energy already and eager to do something about it.

And he was still too warm.

Forty five minutes until he needed to be in the Atrium to greet the gorilla and head to school. He flung the door open to his room, flipping it shut behind him in the same motion as he broke into a quick jog right away, up the short end of the parkour ramp opposite the door and gaining momentum quickly. He teetered on the rim, not quite steady, then let gravity drive him back into the curve and launching up the ramp that arched over his doorway. Before he reached the top he pushed off, hands finding holds against the wall in the same moment and he hauled himself upwards. He needed to move. He needed to burn off some of this energy, wherever it had come from. One side to the other, he worked his way across the wall, hand over hand, heel to toe, arching over the basketball hoop and back again.

It wasn’t enough. Maybe he should just transform and run to school on his own. It wouldn’t be hard. He could get the rush he was looking for, if he was Chat Noir. He could push himself past where his civilian self could reach. He could-

-go find _her_.

He slipped from the rock wall, landing unceremoniously at the top of the parkour ramp, staring blankly up at where he’d dropped from. The longer he sat the better the idea sounded.

He shook his head after probably too long. _What is this…?_ Sure, he was always happy to see Ladybug, but to go out of his way to find her, his mind's eye ogling every stray thought of her like some kind of hungry hound on a piece of meat though, that was new. She’d always been an amazing figure in his life, strong, confident, powerful, with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. But she also had lips. Soft, delicate, and absolutely edible.

Adrien swallowed hard against the thought. At how much he wanted nothing more than to taste them. Trail his lips against her jaw and mark the path for the whole world to know that he was the only one that could get this close to such an amazing lady. That he was her partner, in every sense of the word.

But he wasn’t. That wasn’t right.

He looked out over his domain, _bedroom_ he corrected himself, and tried to spot his Kwami. Unless he was tucked up into the bookshelf somewhere…?

“Hey, Plagg?” He pushed away the thudding of his own heart, the rhythmic tap tapping of the rest of the house’s occupants moving to and fro, straining for any kind of rustling in the confines of his room. Everything was still silent. Annoyance was skirted with concern. _He’s probably just in a bad mood,_  he reasoned. Though he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly would have upset his kwami like this in the last twenty four hours. The previous night’s akuma wasn’t so bad, and when he’d reached home again, he’d readily provided the small demi-god’s prized Camembert with no resistance. They’d done well, and Plagg had been more than accommodating the last couple of days. _I have no idea why though._

He twisted where he sat, letting his legs hang over the edge of the ramp, staring longingly out the floor to ceiling windows at the Parisian skyline.

God, he wanted it.

To just be out there.

But it was thirty minutes until school time started, and he still needed to shower, so he pushed himself over the ledge, dropping down in front of his door gracefully. Making his way to the bathroom he stopped to fish some clothes for the day from his extensive closet. He had so many outfits, gifts from different shoots, different designers, but he always gravitated towards the same few things when it was truly his choice. What could he say, he had a style he liked, and when there were so few things he got to decide for himself in his life, he’d be damned if he was going to wear something he hated when he could pick something he actually felt comfortable in.

He did mix it up a little bit today, though. On top of his usual Gabriel brand shirts, he’d gotten a hold on some tops that paid homage to the city’s saviors. Originally he’d gotten them just as something to have, or wear around the house on the rare lazy day, just to indulge of course. But they were still perfectly wearable outside of the house, and thankfully, not completely geared towards young ladies. For both heroes. He pulled a shirt out that was predominantly black, a color he knew he wore very well, but across the front was a stylized variant of Ladybugs signature across a messy brushstroke of rich crimson. It might have sparkled a little. But it was one of his favorites. It wasn’t cute and dainty like much of the merchandise for her, happy little ladybugs and a lot more pink than the powerful hero deserved, he thought. This one seemed more raw and wild, a flurry of strength streaking across his chest.

He’d wear it like a brand today. He grinned to himself. It was stupid. It wasn’t like he’d even see her in this, most likely. But still. He’d know, and that was enough for him.

It wasn’t.

It was. It was enough, and he was more than pleased. He snagged his usual over-shirt and pants and disappeared into the bathroom.

Adrien had broken a light sweat finally, from his little burst of energy earlier, so a shower this morning was definitely unavoidable. Not that he skipped showers often, but late nights sometimes called for late mornings. As his mental clock ticked by he knew he’d have to make it a quick one. Not terrible. He’d probably take another once he got home. Longer, relaxing, something he could just do to enjoy rather than as a necessity.

He looked forward to it as he stepped into the stream of already hot water.

With his clothes still on.

“Shit.” Where was his brain today? He made a face as the fabric of his sleep clothes clung to him like wet rags, and he pulled the sopping mess off of him, one piece at a time. It was tossed into a wet mass at the edge of his shower and he glared at it. That  had certainly never happened before.

He rinsed quickly, scrubbing a bit of shampoo into his hair and working it into a lather, set on completing the task in a new record time if he could. Another rinse, and he was done.

Towel in hand, he dried off as he went back into his room proper, eyes darting around to all the usual hiding places of his companion.

“Plagg, it’s almost time to go. Where are you? I have Camembert.” He called the last part with a soft melody to his voice. Still nothing.

Rubbing water from his hair and turning on his heels to throw clothes on, all annoyance from the morning flashed to alarm. Plagg wasn’t here. The promise of cheese was usually more than enough to rouse the cat creature from a dead sleep, but the silence that greeted him more than solidified the fact that his kwami was not in his room. Had one of the maids found him and taken him outside like a stray? Had he run off somewhere and gotten trapped by something?

He knew the idea was absurd as he tugged his pants on, tucking his shirt into the hem. _No, if he got locked outside he could just phase through the wall to get back in…_ Adrien was concerned. More than concerned, really. Without Plagg, there was no Chat Noir, ring or no. And with his friend missing, well, there was no telling what had happened? No, if Plagg was missing, it was because Plagg wanted to be missing. Which told him that yes, something was going on.

He just couldn’t figure out what.

Ten minutes to go and he was pacing around his room again. Ten minutes and Plagg was nowhere to be found. Ten minutes and Plagg still hadn’t arrived for his morning cheese.

Adrien grumbled to himself. He shoved the cheese into his school bag.

This is not what he wanted to smell like today. He moved back into the bathroom, shuffling through various bottles on his sink counter and finally picking out one perfume that was half empty. He hesitated.

His usual cologne was not what he wanted to smell like today either.

Something felt… wrong about it. It wasn’t right. He picked up another and the same displeasure at its existence washed over him. His brow furrowed and he set it back down carefully.

His clothes already held the smell of freshly washed linens, so maybe that was ok for today? As long as he didn’t run into an akuma again so soon, he should be fine. His afternoon would be free, and he didn’t have a photo shoot planned that he’d need to be overly presentable for, so it should be alright.

Five minutes to go.

“Plagg, come on. I don’t have time for hide and seek.” He huffed, returning to his bedroom and slipping the satchel strap over his shoulder. “We need to go.” Concern was edged with agitation. His foot tapped impatiently as he stood in the middle of his room. He wanted to run again. It was going to be a long day.

“Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on.” Finally drifted down from the window of all places. “Unlike some of you sleepy beings, one of us had some very important business to take care of this morning. Very tiring business. The kind of tired only cheese can cure.” Plagg drifted down onto Adrien’s shoulder, placing his little paws against the boys cheek. “You got the stuff?”

“Important, huh?” He motioned into his school bag, and with a noise that sounded almost like a strangled purr, a very un-Plagg-like noise, the little black being zipped into hiding as he dug into the creamy, smelly wheel of cheese that awaited him. “You could have at least left a note. I’ve been looking for you all morning.” Adrien grumbled. He’d been worried. And a little upset he couldn’t act on his desires for a morning run. But mostly worried.

He yanked his overshirt on and headed out of the room without waiting for a reply. With his kwami tucked into the cheese, he’d get nothing better than garbled words around mouthfuls anyway, so it was indeed a lost cause.

The gorilla escorted him to the car, and the short drive to school stretched in silence. Not that his driver was the most talkative man he knew, but it gave his mind a chance to drift once more as he looked out the window, watching the buildings wiz past and he imagined two figures darting across the tops of them. One clad in black chasing the other clad in red.

He sucked in air through his nose, releasing it slowly, controlled from his mouth. The creeping heat was back again, trickling down his neck and into his chest, and lower still. Eyes unfocused as he got lost in the daydream. He registered the small floating figure in his peripherals as it looked at him, but he paid it no mind. Plagg was there. He was always there. And as he drifted out of his line of vision once more, Plagg was gone from his thoughts.

The minute flexing of muscles in his arms and legs as he ran in his mind only added to the fantasy of the chase. Even though he was sitting still, his thoughts flew across the rooftops, always gaining, getting closer to his quarry.

He could see her in front of him, the way the muscles of her back pulled through her suit, just under the thin layer of fabric. What was it? What was his? He knew it was magic, but was it something real, or something completely unique to each of them? Her looked thin. Thinner than his own. More fragile. Something that wouldn’t dampen her sense of touch as much. Something that would let her feel the way his hands glided over skin. Pinpoint where the tips of his fingers pressed against her. How his whole body would, once he caught her.

He swallowed. Hard. His hands tight around her hips, his chest pressed against hers, closer than she’d ever let him get before.

He was panting, lightly, as her face turned to meet his, over her shoulder. She was turned away from him, but she wasn’t pulling away. She let him be that close to her, and her lips.

She was grinning at him.

If he bent his head, just a bit.

A little closer, and he could capture those smiling lips with his own.

A quick burst of pain exploded like tiny flowers against his forehead. He stared at the glass of the car’s window like it had just jumped up and bit him.

He’d bumped his head, he realized. Leaning down to… To kiss Ladybug, he’d bumped his head.

His palms were warm and his chest was cold. The imagined warmth from her body against his nothing more than a figment of his imagination. He sucked in a breath.

“Wow...” He was beside himself. It was so real, just a moment ago. He could feel her. He could _smell her_ she’d been so close, the image so vivid. He swallowed again at the realization that the buildings were no longer moving and had settled onto one familiar building.

He was at school.

And Nino was waving at him from the other side of the glass.

It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now, I think I've got a good amount of ideas to work with, but I'm still super open to more stuff. The overall plotline for this has been shaping up PRETTY good, but there's still the in between play room from point a to point b that can get toyed around with as needed, so feel free to throw other little ideas you'd like to maybe see at me. If anything, I may do some side-stories fro this fic to cover any gaps, like what exactly Plagg was doing that was so 'important' this morning.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I'm gonna be working on starting the next chapter right away, so it shouldn't be too long before 3 is up. A few days or something. I'm also working on finishing a one-shot that could have probably been broken up into like 3-4 chapters, but idk. It's like, 20K+ words right now and just now getting to the really good parts, but it's a quick finish (lol) so once I get over that crest, it'll be good to go.


	3. Losing Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did I say it was going to be a few days? I meant a few hours.
> 
> ;D

How long had he been zoning out and staring at nothing?

****

It couldn’t have been that long, right?

****

He opened the door, getting out quickly and trusting Plagg to hide himself before Nino, or anyone else for that matter, caught sight of him.

****

“Hey man, you ok?” The concern in his friend's voice was blatantly obvious. Ok, so he must have been spacing out for a while there after all.   
  
“Yeah, yeah, just didn’t sleep well last night.” He half shrugged, offering a fist bump in greeting. “Must have been dozing off there or something. Did you get that new camera you were talking about yet?”   
  
“Dude, your dad really needs to lay off on the shoots if they’re cutting into your sleep that bad. You looked like a zombie in there.” He shoved Adrien’s shoulder playfully after returning the greeting, and the casual banter of the morning continued on. Nino had been saving up for a camera with good enough audio and visual stats to bring his movie gear up to an even par with his music set up. No more HD sound with questionable video quality. The next movie project to pop up, he’d be ready. As it turns out, he and Alya were already starting on a new script that could be altered to make room for themed specifics.

****

This was good. This was normal. Talking with his friend as they lingered on the steps before class. Even if the sound of every single other student doing the same was slowly starting to drown out his own thoughts with chatter and footsteps and shuffling through their bags to pull out assignments and homework and what was going on? He’d lost track of what Nino was saying, blinking vaguely as he realized that, yes, he was still talking, something about the weekend… Sunday, hanging out ‘their’ house?    
  
“Sure, sounds great. I’ll see if I can clear it with Nathalie, tell her something about a school project.” He tried to look enthusiastic, but something about the look he received led him to believe that might not have been exactly what he was talking about.  _ Shit. _

****

“Man, are you sure you’re ok? I was talking about  _ Marinette _ staying over at  _ Alya’s _ house,” he shook his head, just as amused as he was worried, it seemed. “Then again, bro, they probably wouldn’t mind you crashing the party.” Nino grinned. “Especially not Marinette.”   
  
“Huh? Why Marinette specifically?” He tilted his head a little more than confused. She always seemed so… So… Uncomfortable around him. Not unfriendly, just off her game.   
  
“Oh man, speak of the devil and she will appear.” Nino groaned, but the small upwards quirk to his lips betrayed him as Adrien glanced over his shoulder. Heading towards them was Alya, with a very disgruntled Marinette in tow. The two were joined at the wrist, and Adrien couldn’t help the sympathetic smile that curved his lips just slightly. It looked like Alya had paid the Dupain-Cheng bakery an early morning visit for a special order of one on-time Marinette.

****

What a miraculous day it was turning out to be.   
  
“Morning, girls.” He chimed, Alya bee-lining to her boyfriend of almost three years now. Nino certainly was a lucky man. Alya had always been pretty, but today she was absolutely glowing. She was curvy. There were no doubts about that. And boy, did she ever wear those curves well. A fact that, for his friends sake, he typically tried not to think about. Hell, he  _ was _ a teenaged boy after all, and while he and Nino both had agreed that there were just some thoughts you couldn’t avoid, including but not limited too Nino scoping out the rear of one miss Chloe Bourgeois more than a time or two, they were definitely not thoughts that either of them would ever consider acting on. Still, Adrien tried to make it a strict habit  _ not _ to check out his best bro’s girlfriend.   
  
Today, though, it was particularly hard to keep his eyes to himself as she came straight up to them, abandoning the groggy-eyed Marinette in order to sling her arms around Nino’s neck and plant a kiss on his cheek with enough force to disrupt his glasses and earn a squawk as he was thrown a little off balance.    
  
The chuckle that came from him at their antics was expected.

****

The sudden pang of envy, however, was not.    
  
He wanted that. He wanted a warm body pressed close against him, sharing little intimate exchanges, letting everyone know that he was spoken for as much as he was doing the speaking for his mate.   
  
_ Huh. _   
  
“Huh.” His mouth echoed his brain softly, his eyes drifting to the sleepy girl that had also been left out of the exchange, whose sudden movement as she threw her arms over her head into a very satisfying looking stretch had immediately snapped his full attention onto her.   
  
He swallowed, hoping Nino and Alya were still too distracted in each other to miss the way he  _ knew _ his eyes rove down her lean form. She was wearing the usual outfit, her blazer over a cute top that had stretched up just enough to show off the smooth plane of her stomach, lavender pants today with a bit of pink detail over the front of one hip, something that matched the colors in her shirt, covering legs that he knew were deceptively strong for someone with such a slight frame. At the end of the stretch she rocked up onto tip-toe for half a second.   
  


_ Oh gosh, that’s cute. _   
  
His eyes snapped back up and he checked his surroundings. OK. Those two were still distracted, no problem. Looking back to Marinette, however, he felt like the child that’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.   
  
She was staring right at him, eyes wide and free from the residual traces of slumber. Her cheeks were pink. It took everything in him not to bite his lip. He’d been caught, but oh, the look on her face was so incredibly worth it right now.    
  
“Uh, good morning, Marinette.” A direct greeting. Yes. This was good. Act normal. Natural.    
  
“M-mood gorning.” She stammered. She didn’t even try to correct herself. While it had been a bit over a year since Marinette’s last vocabulary melt down, they’d actually thrown her a party in jest at the accomplishment, she was still usually quick to railroad over any major speech bumbles, and at the complete disregard at the verbal mix up, Adrien’s mind began to run circles around the thought that he’d messed up.    
  
She caught him staring, and now things were going to be awkward again, and it was all his fault.   
  
“Dude, what did you do to her?” Nino prodded, literally prodded with a finger to his shoulder, as he grinned at the two of them. The blonde couldn’t for the life of him figure out how him sending their friendship back nearly two years of progress could be any form of amusing, however.    
  
Marinette snapped herself out of her stupor a moment later, chiming in. “N-nothing! It’s, ah, ok. I’m just not very awake this morning. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” She ducked her head, laughing nervously and scratched at the back of her neck. “Must have been zoning out there for a minute, haha.”    
  
“Heh, you ‘n Adrien both. My man sat in the car staring out the window for a good ten minutes before he finally got out today.” Nino shook his head, looking between the two of them, waving his hand dismissively at the whole ordeal.   
  
“Our little space cadets.” Alya cooed, the look she gave them was the kind of thing you’d reserve for a box of puppies. Or kittens. Definitely for kittens. She sighed, the look turning coy on a dime. “Someday they’ll realize they’re perfect for each other and give us grandkids.”    
  
“Alya!” Marinette practically screeched.    
  


It was a fight not to cover his ears at the volume, the sudden close proximity shout had startled a jump out of him. Once again all attention had queued in on Marinette as she went after Alya, the two breaking into a run up the stairs and into the school. Nino trailed after a moment later, saying something about rescuing his girlfriend.   
  
Adrien stood there.   
  
Marinette?

****

Kittens?

****

Grandkids?

****

_ Marinette? _

****

It should have surprised him when the thoughts didn’t raise any questions. Well, aside from the belated question of why it indeed seemed  _ perfect _ as the copper-haired girl had put it. Marinette would make someone a fine partner, indeed. She was witty, fun, creative, passionate, and remarkably comfortable to be around when he wasn’t personally screwing up the situation. On top of all that, she was gorgeous too. Not in the same alluring way Alya could be with her brash confidence and very in your face personality,  _ and blind determination in following every akuma fight she could get within range of, _ he added. No, Marinette was a delicate kind of gorgeous, that could probably still kick you in the face if you didn’t watch your step. Where Alya was all push, Marinette was definitely more pull. Alya would come to you if she wanted something, but Marinette, when it came to people, romance, it always seemed like she wanted her Romeo to come to her.

****

His eyes drifted to the steps as he thought. He’d learned that as confident as she was, she could certainly be shy when a situation surprised her, especially if it was something good rather than bad. She handled bad situations well, able to think calmly and take control of a situation. It was admirable, and the more he’d seen it over the years, the closer he’d wanted to get to her as a friend. But she was still a teenaged girl, just like he was a teenaged boy, and where he had his own problems controlling himself, her nerves would still get the better of her. Sometimes it was cute, but it did worry him sometimes.   
  
He liked her. He wanted her to succeed. But he knew going into the fashion world, she would need to be on her A game all the time or it would eat her alive. He worried for her first failure. He knew it would happen. It had happened to his father countless times before he finally made it, and he worried that she wouldn’t be able to push through to that point and hold her own. But he’d be there to support her. Not as an Agreste backing a new designer, but as Adrien backing up his friend.

****

_ Father would probably approve of her if we ever got mar- _

****

His head snapped up with the final warning bell, snapping him out of that thought before it finished. But it was there. He hoofed it up the steps two at a time and raced to his homeroom class. 

****

Seating the last two years had been a little different, Alya partnering up with Nino for home room and Adrien taking her place in the seat behind him to sit next to Marinette. It was part of how she’d gotten more used to him he thought, but he had the feeling that today would be a bit different.   
  
Reaching the classroom, the uncomfortable warmth was back. He shouldn’t have run. Standing was fine. Talking was fine. Activity was not fine. He felt like there was a hair trigger, just waiting for the wind to blow the right way to send him into another fit of anxious energy. It wasn’t there, but he knew it was coming.

Like a tidal wave.

****

He waved at the lovebirds, glancing across the rows to where Chloe sat and more than happy that she was talking animatedly with Sabrina about something, and headed up the steps to his seat. His bag landed gently beside the bench and he paused. He  _ could _ take his top shirt off. It could relieve a bit of the warmth and it wouldn’t be too awkward. It was outright chilly in the classroom though. If anything, some people were shrugging light jackets  _ on _ . 

****

But the feeling was just growing. If he didn’t, he’d probably end up panting by the end of class, and he’d rather not be labeled as a dog, even jokingly. As he wavered he caught Marinette’s eye. She was watching him out of the corner of her vision, even though she was scrolling through her tablet, her eyes were definitely on him. And that made his decision.   
  
Suddenly taking off the white overshirt was a display, slipping it off one shoulder first and subtly letting the muscles of his stomach and chest flex as he pulled his arm free of the sleeve. He kept eye contact, taking note of the way her own gaze drifted momentarily across his chest and down before back up, eyes a little wider and the pink from earlier returning. He couldn’t tell you why he’d decided to torment his mate like that. 

****

_ Seat mate. _

****

He had to remind himself. Why did he have to remind himself? He turned suddenly, his back now to her. He could still  _ feel _ her eyes on him though, across his shoulders as he shrugged the other arm free, along his back as he folded the fabric neatly. He had a dilemma. How far did he want to push this? He didn’t have even a second to think, but a decision had to be made. Should he play nice, or go for a kill shot? Why did he want to go for a kill shot?

****

Why didn’t he?

****

He bent over, back still to her as he scooped up his bag, and he could hear her choke.

****

Did...Did she like what she saw? Or was he just making an idiot of himself. It was probably the latter. As far as he knew, Marinette didn’t think of him like that. But if she did…

****

Wait. No.

****

What was wrong with him today?

****

He straightened, slinging the bag back down with practiced gentleness, a new nest for Plagg made of the soft cotton of the white shirt, cradled in his satchel. Plagg, however, was absent once again. More Kwami business, he assumed, since he seemed to have been busy with it earlier. He slid into his seat as the classroom chatter finally started to seep back into his headspace, drowning out his own thoughts for the moment.

****

He didn’t dare look next to him.

****

He was playing a game with fire he didn’t know the rules too, but it looked to him like the universe was just making them up as he went.

****

Their professor entered the classroom and all discussion came to an abrupt halt.

****

She was strict, talking would have you sent to the hall without a warning, and continued talking was dealt a detention sentence. Note passing was not tolerated either, but was the surest form of communication available, should the need arise.

****

And cell phones were banished.

****

She was the most no-nonsense teacher Adrien had encountered so far in his short schooling career, but not the worst, according to his classmates. He paled at the thought of someone even more vicious in teaching methods than the lady standing at the front of the class barking morning announcements at her herd like a belligerent sheep dog. He really didn’t care for dogs most day. They could be ok, but cats would always hold a special place in his heart.

****

Just like Ladybug. There was a very special place where he kept the thoughts of her safe, curled up in a ball of soft warmth, love, and longing.

****

He relaxed onto his elbows as the lecture began, something about history, and the noise fell to the dull drone of his own professor’s teaching and the lessons from the next five closest classrooms. One professor was questionably more animated than the rest, and he wondered what it would take to get himself and his friends transferred into the other class. It probably wouldn’t be too hard. He knew Chloe pulled those strings every year to end up in all of his classes…

****

Maybe he could ask her about it?

****

She did like him, after all. In more than a friend way, he was pretty sure. At least he thought as much with how she’d hang off of him constantly. Adrien had to admit, he was fairly blind to advances towards himself, and had been even more so in his younger years. With Nino’s help, he was getting better, but his education on the matter seemed to continuously leave his teacher underwhelmed. Like he kept missing something.   
  
Maybe that’s why he couldn’t get anywhere with his partner. He knew how to pitch a good flirt, but he completely missed the return throws. Maybe Ladybug had been flirting with him this whole time and he just couldn’t see it? He felt an excitement in his chest get tamped down as soon as it sprung up. No, if she was flirting with him too, he doubted he’d still be settled in the dust at the starting line like he was. Wooing her was a marathon, definitely not a sprint. He knew she’d crack eventually, and then he’d be able to hold her in his arms, tell her how much she truly meant to him, lean in and capture her lips with his and maybe even get to explore what was under each one of those oh so tempting spots.

****

His eyes slid shut as he imagined the bright light of her transformation washing away. He still couldn’t see her face properly, but he knew those lips. And he knew those eyes. The rest refused to fill in, but his mind brought to him the vision of a delicate sundress with ruffles along the edges and a cinched belt around her waist. Color flooded in, and the dress was a pastel yellow, a navy blue belt matched her hair and brought balance to the ensemble. The neckline came to a point at the middle, and a dainty navy bow was accented by a single, simple, ladybug brooch. It was tiny, barely bigger than an actual ladybug.

****

It was cute. She was cute.

****

He handed her a wide-brimmed hat which she placed on top of her head, and he gasped. Her hair was loose. It cascaded against the tops of her shoulders, just barely kissing the freckles that dipped to hide under the straps of the dress, and he was jealous. Why should her hair be the only thing to kiss those shoulders. He leaned forward to press his lips against the exposed skin, breath catching in his throat at how close they were.

****

His chin was on fire.

****

The entire class jumped at the sudden crack.

****

His eyes shot open and his hands flew to his chin. He had just face-planted into the table top. He had not been about to kiss Ladybugs shoulders. He was in class. And everyone was staring at him.

****

“Bro.”

****

Nino’s look of concern brought him fully back to reality. Something was going on with him.

****

“I… May I please go to the nurse?” He mumbled from behind his hands.

****

The professor looked at him with a critical eye. The Agreste boy was usually a very attentive student. She walked over to him with a measured step and placed the back of her hand to his forehead.

****

Her eyebrows quirked upwards as she pulled it away, heaving a sigh of disdain and returning to her desk as if her job as an instructor was more of a chore than it was worth. “As you wish. Marinette, please escort your partner to the nurse.” She was writing out a hall pass.

****

Marinette was nodding.

****

He could tell from the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to look over at her. Had she seen him drop? Had she been watching him? Had anyone been watching him? He knew he was warm, but he couldn’t tell if he was blushing.

****

If an akuma could attack right now, he would kiss Hawkmoth.

****

He waited as the professor finished her note.

****

Anything?

****

Anything at all?

****

The note was laid in front of him on the desk and she returned to the front of the room. “Be quick about it, you two.”

****

“Yes ma’am.” They said in unison, both voices equally rattled, or at least it seemed that way to Adrien as he finally pulled his hands away from his chin. His dad would skin him if that bruised. He didn’t think it would, but the thought was oddly settling.  It took the edge off some.

****

He slid from his seat to find Marinette had already made her way to his side of the benches, and for the upteenth time that morning, he was startled. She had his bag. 

****

Adrien just nodded to her and he followed her carefully down the steps and out of the classroom.

****

The whiplash his mind was feeling from the constant rush of sounds around him to the near deafening silence that came with focusing on one single thing was going to drive him mad. At one point there were dozens of voices hammering into his ears, and the next he was all alone in the hall with Marinette and the only things he could concentrate on was the timing between her steps and his, and that both of their heartbeats were pounding a mile a minute. And the fact that he could, somehow, hear her heartbeat at all right now was mildly upsetting.

****

This wasn’t normal.

****

None of this was normal.

****

_ He _ wasn’t normal.

****

The silencing of one set of footsteps was the only alert he had as she stopped, and he nearly careened into her from behind.

****

“A-adrien, are you alright?” She asked. Her voice was soft in the hallway, something he was immensely grateful for. Her turn was slow. Not timid, but seemingly calculated. It was intriguing. 

****

He was a head taller than her, he realized.

****

He also realized she had absolutely gorgeous eyes.

****

Her hand lifted slowly, concern openly drawn across her face, and she placed it delicately against his brow, lifting his bangs in the process. It was wonderful. Like a cool balm on his heated skin. The desire to close his eyes and just lean against her hand was too great to overcome, and he couldn’t really think of any reason not to as he gazed down at her.

****

He could feel her stiffen as his forehead pressed against her palm, almost as if she expected him to fall. Her other hand touched his arm to steady him unnecessarily. She had expected him to fall. She cared.

****

“... I don’t know.” He answered truthfully.

****  
Something was wrong with him, and had no idea why.   



	4. Closeness Doesn't Always Breed Contempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little short, but it was a good stopping point.

Her hand was like an oasis in a blistering desert at high noon. All he wanted to do was sink deeper into her touch.

****

But they were at school.

****

And most certainly wasn't dying of thirst.

****

Opening his eyes he saw her lips were pursed with concern and she was staring at him. Or maybe examining him. Yeah that would be more likely. 

****

“How long has this been going on? What kind of symptoms do you have? Has your father been over-scheduling you again?” He felt mildly offended one of the first conclusions everyone seemed to jump to was that his father was a slave driver. Not that they were really that wrong, certain times of the year did have a major increase in jobs for him, but with age his dad had let up a little but as he'd shown a sufficient ability to controller himself in public and present a shining example of the Agreste name to the media's watchful eye. It was annoying in the way that it made his friends sometimes feel overprotective. But they were still protective and that was a fact he cherished.

****

He settled on shaking his head. “No, I haven't had a shoot for a while actually. With projects coming up he was going to give me time to focus on school for a few weeks.” He tried a reassuring smile that faltered only slightly when she took her hand away. It was only for a moment though as she replaced it on his cheek and then down his neck, checking his temperature along the sides and back with the palm and back of her hand in turn. It was distracting to say the least and his words stumbled. Marinette in mom mode tended to throw certain personal boundaries out the window for her, he'd seen. On more than one occasion. Alya, Ivan, Kim, and even Chloe had all felt the full force of mother hen Marinette over the years when coming to school had outweighed staying home and resting for whatever reason. He had a feeling he could expect some surprise soup at lunch time if he wasn't sent home immediately.

****

“Uh, I'm… I guess warm… way too warm, but I haven't been sweating. No appetite this morning, I can't focus and I keep…” How did he say  _ fantasizing unapologetically _ without sounding like a major creepazoid? He made a small motion with his hands, wavering them unsteadily and let his head drop in example. “That. That keeps happening. In class, in the car this morning…” he thought, the look of concern on the girl's face only growing as her hold on his arm became more firm. More solid. “I think at breakfast too, but I'm not sure…” he trailed off, head snapping up and he looked off into the distance. “I was climbing… slipped off the wall but it wasn't a far fall. And I've had all this crazy energy but in flashes.” He shook his head. 

****

He knew none of it was adding up. He could see how she was trying to put the pieces together and still came up with nothing. 

****

Did she know her hand was still cupping his neck? 

****

“I don't think I have a fever…” What else was there?  He shook his head. His pulse was racing. Could she tell? He was still hot. Was he flushed? He hoped she'd keep looking at him. He swallowed again. Why couldn't he get rid of this tightness in his throat? This boiling thrum inside his chest? This urge to lean down and just bury his face against her neck and wrap himself around her right there in the hallway?

****

He stepped back suddenly with a start. Her touch suddenly searing like a red hot iron. She jumped in turn.

****

“S-sorry, I shouldn't have-” Marinette started but he put up his hands to stop her.

****

“No, no it was ok. It was…”  _ Amazing. _ His gaze shifted down. “It was nice… your hand. It was cool...Like… soothing cool.”  _ More. _ Ice splashed against the back of his neck and he knew that, yes, now he was definitely blushing. “It felt… nice.”  _ Please touch me. _

****

He wanted her hands on him. On his face, his neck, his chest, anywhere she would Grant him contact. He burned cold with shame.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, gaze drifting unsteadily between her face and hands, flicking it’s way down her neck, down the length of her frame, lapping up as many details as he could in the fraction of a moment before his mind wrenched them back upwards. Thankfully it seemed she just thought he was dizzy. Adrien could have died where he stood from embarrassment.    
  
“Let’s get you to the nurse...” She said gently, returning a hand to his arm to help guide him. He could feel the concern rolling off of her, and a tiny part of him begged to take advantage of that.  _ Ask her to stay. Ask her to touch. Ask for a taste- _

****

Adrien hissed in a breath, but nodded. Marinette was kind. Too kind.  He stepped after her, their hands soon linking as he proved his ability to walk in a straight line. He held on tight, focusing on the point where their hands joined, connected. If he focused on that, maybe it would be ok.

****

His thumb brushed the back of her hand and he could have slapped himself when she tensed. She shouldn’t be afraid of him.  _ She should be pleased. _ His mind insisted.    
  
“T-thank you.” He mumbled out. “For the help. I’m sorry about being a burden today.” He felt like a heel. This was stupid. Everything was stupid.  _ He _ was stupid. He should have just stayed home this morning.   
  
She gave his hand a squeeze, returning the gentle gesture, her thumb ghosting over the back of his hand and sending a tingle up his arm. “It’s no problem.” He could hear the smile in her voice, even without looking. “Besides, you’re uh, n-never a burden to me.”

****

Warmth washed through him, dismissing the ice that had built a fortress inside his chest. But it wasn’t the same blistering warmth he’d been suffering through all morning. It was soft, and gentle, and the kind of warmth that promised safety and comfort. It took him a moment to realize he’d stepped closer to her, in time with her steps, and had his shoulder pressed gently against her own.

****

She was blushing, but didn’t pull away. Her eyes had locked ahead of them, but there was a small smile curling up at the edges of her mouth.  _ Want… _

****

He licked his lips.

****

The tiles of the floor were infinitely interesting. 

****

Her skin was warm against his arm.

****

_ Ah, someone dropped their gum. _

****

His fingers tightened around her hand, small and delicate in his own.

****

_ Oh no. _

****

He could bring her hand up like it was nothing. Press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Flash a playful smile.

****

_ Win her heart. _

****

He bit his lip and tasted copper.

****  
The nurse wasn’t in her office.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! I'm taking short drabble prompts on my tumblr o w o Send me a sentence or an au or a fanart (check with the artist before hand please!) or something and I'll write out a little drabble. could be a couple hundred words, or a couple thousand, who knows. Depends on where the drabble leads me!
> 
> Tumblr: showmeyoureros.tumblr.com


	5. The Best Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nurse is never in. Do schools even actually have nurses anymore, or do they just have nurses offices?

Adrien's shoulders slumped at the empty office. 

****

Marinette led him inside by the hand regardless, sitting him down on one of the lightly padded cots and hurried across the room to do… something? Adrien wasn't exactly sure what, and he watched her with a critical eye as she opened cabinets and drawers in turn, searching for something.

****

_ Nurse Dupain-Cheng… _

****

The images his mind supplied to that thought made him balk, a bit more than disgusted with himself. On one hand, Marinette dolled up like a classic nurse could be adorable, maybe as a Halloween costume or something entirely innocent. On the other, Adrien, being a teenage boy was well aware of the much more adult nature of what a nurse costume could hint at and thoroughly berated himself for letting his mind wander so far. Not that he hadn't been having a hard time keeping himself in check as it was. At least it had only been a fleeting thought.

****

He startled out of his head once more at the joyous 'ah ha’ from across the room, the petite- _ lithe, strong, gorgeous-  _ girl striding over with a determined confidence and brandishing a small item in one hand. He gulped as she bent down in front of him, holding a thermometer to his lips like a mother would to a stubborn child, and he ignored the echo of a pang of loss in his chest, the feeling quickly drowned out by an acute self-consciousness at the lack of distance between their faces.

****

“Say ah.” The tiny metal end tapped against his lips and he 'ah’d obediently, long enough for the girl to pop it into his mouth. He could  _ see _ the way her eyes flit over his face, his cheeks, his ears even, and she turned away quickly, moving over to the nurse's desk. “Keep that there for a minute.” To her credit, her voice didn't waver much, but Adrien could tell she was probably uncomfortable. 

****

He knew he was acting weird. Staring,  _ touching, _ and his thoughts. Well, she didn't know what he was thinking, but the fact they were even there made him feel guilty. She was one of his best friends and he kept eyeing her, and  _ Alya _ for that matter, like they were pieces of meat and he was some kind of starving stray. Truly nothing more than a mangy tomcat. 

****

Marinette sighed from across the room and he offered a quizzical hum, since he wasn't supposed to open his mouth. She shrugged one shoulder settling down into the rolling chair at the desk and tapped a note that had been left.

****

“He’s gone for the day.” She said simply, a slightly amused smile on her face that was somehow just as disapproving. “Apparently his youngest kid was playing superheroes with their friend at recess and, get this,” Marinette was struggling to keep a wide grin from spreading across her face. “The little Ladybug  _ threw _ her Chat Noir off the slide,”She wasn't succeeding. “ _ At _ another kid…”

****

Adrien stared at her in disbelief as she started to chuckle, and it took all of his remaining resolve not to join in, both of his hands slowly covering his face. “Da’s ah-ful.” He mumbled with tepidly horrified amusement around the thermometer, shaking his head. He could see it now, two tiny children, probably standing on a jungle gym, fighting their 'akumatized’ friend below, and the ladybug hefting the Chaton Noir over her head and chucking them violently at the other small child.

****

He knew his mind was exaggerating things greatly, but he couldn't help the animated images the description brought forth. They were a welcome change. 

****

The thermometer was plucked from his mouth a moment later as he laughed internally at the children's antics in his mind, and he perked through his fingers up at Marinette as she checked the read. He felt bad, the kids acting out such a dangerous aspect of their hero-ing adventures, but if the nurse was calm enough to write a note that casual it must not have ended in any major injuries.

****

His hands dropped with an amused sigh that echoed his hidden laughter, looking up at Marinette fully and leaning back on his hands. “What's the prognosis, doctor Dupain-Cheng? Am I going to make it?” He asked, letting his expression shift to what he hoped was innocent, pleading. He was a dying patient after all. Maybe if he was lucky the cure would be a kiss?

****

_ Woah. No. Hold it right there brain.  _ Panic rushed through him and he hoped it didn't show. He was doing so well, too. 

****

“Well, you don't have a fever.” It was good news but her face was still flooded with concern as she pressed her hand to his forehead once more. He stiffened at the touch. 

****

And not entirely in just one way. 

****

His eyes widened at the recognized feeling and he missed whatever else Marinette had to say, just nodding in reply when there was a break in her words, straightening up suddenly.

****

“Woah-” She barely avoided a head on collision. “Adrien, are you-”

****

“S-sorry, I kind of, um, missed that.” He folded his hands over his lap, looking sheepish and more than a little flustered. “Drifted off there.” 

****

She sighed softly, again reminding him of a mother dealing with a stubborn child. “Doesn't matter. I  _ was _ trying to say I could… could sit with you until you were ready to go back to class…” Her expression softened with worry and she sat down next to him. “But I think you should go home. You're… not y-you today. You should go rest.” Marinette rested her hand on his shoulder, firm in her insistence. It was familiar. Calming. And he couldn't help but nod slowly a moment later. 

****

His unchallenged acceptance of the suggestion won him a relieved smile and a light squeeze to his shoulder, but lost him his seating companion as she got up.

****

Only for a moment though as she stepped across the room to where his bag had been set. He figured she was grabbing his phone. Bringing him his bag. But as she flipped the cover open he paled and held his breath.  _ Oh no, oh no, oh no… _

****

A soft gasp and he thought he was done for, standing suddenly and stepping over towards her, “Marinette I ca-”

****

“Got it!” She held up his phone triumphantly, holding it out to him as he stuttered to a stop a step or two away. “Almost dropped it. Butterfingers.”

****

_ Oh thank God… _

****

_ Wait. _

****

Where was Plagg  _ this _ time? His kwami had been unnaturally absent all day. Around the house he could somewhat justify but at school? What if an akuma attacked? What if he needed to transform and he made the call and then nothing? What if his lady needed him?

****

He was in so much trouble the next time Adrien could get his hands on the little flying cheesemuncher.

****

“Thanks.” He finally took the phone, scrolling quickly through his tiny scattering of contacts and deciding on contacting the Gorilla directly instead of bringing Nathalie into it.

****

**ME** : Hey can you come get me, please? Haven't felt well all morning and the nurse thinks I should go home to rest.

****

**GORILLA: Of course. <:(**

****

The reply was almost instant. His screen hadn't even had time to full before the answering chime  sounded. He always found it amusing how much more expressive the hulking man was through texts than in person, at first glance anyway. Maybe when he was well older he could get him to open up. Maybe they could go drinking together, or bowling… or… something else adults did for fun bonding? He put a pin in that idea.

****

He sat back down on the cot in silence, letting the phone rest in his hand. It would be about ten minutes until his ride arrived. He could handle ten minutes. He took a deep breath, clearing his thoughts. All he had to do was not think. Not think of school. Not think of Plagg. Not think of Marinette, or Alya, and certainly not Ladybug.

****

“I like your shirt.”  _ Fuck. _

****

His eyes focused up on Marinette, leaning back against the nurses desk as she nodded down at the glittery red splash across his chest with a small smile of amusement.  _ Is… Is she teasing me? _

****

He pouted at her, bottom lip protruding comically. She laughed. She  _ was _ . 

****

“I’ll have you know I had to smuggle this into my wardrobe.” He stated proudly. It was a department store brand shirt. Once he had it in the house, his father barely bat an eye in its direction when he did wear it, but had he known the origins of it, Gabriel probably would have had the garment burned. “It’s one of my favorites.”    
  
She gave him an odd expression, her eyebrows raising above the dip of her bangs, and she flushed. Just the tiniest bit. Her turning away did nothing to hide the evidence he’d already seen, but he couldn’t imagine why his words could have garnered such a reaction.

****

_ God it was cute. _

****

_ No. Stop it. _

****

_ But she’s cute. _

****

_ Marinette is not cute. _

****

_ That’s a lie. _

****

He looked away as well, checking the time on his phone.    
  
“The Gorilla should be here soon. You can go back to class, if you want.” He muttered. “I’ll be ok.”

****

He heard her shift at the desk, and he imagined her looking at him with those rich blue eyes, lips parted in some unpinnable expression as silence hung in the air for a hot minute.

****

“O-ok.”

****

She lingered a few moments longer before excusing herself, the door clicking shut quietly on her departure.

****

Adrien sighed.

****

“Well kid, that could have gone better.” The voice behind his shoulder had him on his feet in an instant. 

****

His phone buzzed in his hand to alert him of his bodyguard’s arrival before he could address the small black kwami that floated lazily down to his bag.

****

He decided to send all of his rage and frustration towards the magical cat demi-god in the form of a disgruntled glare, huffing as he hefted the satchel up onto his shoulder and heading out towards the front of the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK.
> 
> So...
> 
> There's a fair bit there might be a little bit of sin next chapter.
> 
> Maybe~


	6. Not His Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I did promise a little bit of sin this chapter, didn't I >w>

Because life couldn't get easier today, but at least had the decency to show a bit of mercy, it was with a grand miracle that Adrien’s face was still in once piece.

 

Even with the set goal in mind,  _ just get to the car _ , the blonde boy had managed to drift off once again into the theater of his mind, striding off the top step of the stairs leading up to the school and, rather acrobatically, tumble-flop his way all the way down.

 

It may have been his natural grace. It may have been years of fencing footwork. It may have been ages of basketball and rock-wall climbing and treating his room like a jungle gym. It may have been his acquired cat-like reflexes. Whatever it was, though, had allowed him to avoid majority of the damages that  _ could _ have happened and landed him sprawled flat out on his back with only his pride sporting any major injuries.

 

Moments later a dark shadow hovered over his beautiful view of the sky and his eyes focused on the stoically concerned face of his bodyguard and driver, the simple battering to his pride taking an additional round of pummeling as he was hoisted to his feet like a wet kitten.

 

“Thanks...” He offered, receiving a large-handed pat on the back and a quick once-over. Sufficiently satisfied that nothing had been broken on the boy, the Gorilla ambled his way back to the drivers side. Out of his father’s line of vision, the man was far less likely to jump to conclusions of Adrien being a helpless child, letting him be, usually, to figure out situations on his own. For that Adrien was exceedingly thankful as he dusted himself off, glancing around the front of the school and relieved to see that, no, no one else had actually been around to witness his little stunt show.

 

Taking a deep breath to clear his head, sucking in the fresh, clean air from outside and letting it wash through his lungs in a cleansing manner, he gathered up his bag again and skittered his way into the waiting car. No sooner had he seated himself and buckled in then another tell-tale chime rang from his phone.

  
  
**GORILLA:** Maybe save your future trips for next fall.

 

“Did you just...” Adrien stared at the dividing window, catching a quick side glance from his driver as he shifted the car into motion.

 

He laughed. Loud and hearty and ugly and rich. He doubled over in his seat, slowly reining in the tremors that rippled through him at the professionally delivered pun. He’d have to remember that one. That was a good one. He couldn’t wait to get the chance to pull it out of his mental rolodex in an upcoming battle.

 

_ Oh, god, I hope whatever is going on is over by then. _ He groaned to himself, still chuckling slightly and dragging one hand up against his face.  _ I can’t be drifting off like this mid battle. _ It was a problem. It would be a problem, he thought, if he couldn’t get his head on straight. If he couldn’t get a handle on these thoughts, these feelings, these  _ urges _ that seemed to pop up unbidden.

 

He’d thought he was past the age for uncontrollable awkward thoughts. He was an Agreste after all, polished and raised to be a perfect gentleman in any situation, such thoughts of lewdness and suggestive themes looked down upon to be banished to the far reaches of his mind when in public. Supposedly locked away until he was good and well alone, and even then he was hesitant to act on most of them.

 

The chosen few tended to be centered around a particular shade of crimson dotted with perfectly uniform black dots and a very specific model for said colorations.  But that was definitely neither here nor there, as here was most definitely sitting in the back of the sedan, and not the limo, and there was most definitely a simple glass dividing window and most definitely NOT a privacy window that was blacked out enough to keep the fact that-

 

_ What the heck, hand! _

 

He whipped both hands to his knees, gripping them tightly and looking down at his  _ personal problem _ absolutely aghast.

 

He was a teenage boy. Certain bodily functions were, at times, unavoidable.

 

_ That _ however, had not been there when he’d sat down in the car. And he certainly hadn’t made an active effort to engage in some pocket pool in the back of a car driven by one of his closest, in a somewhat loose sense of the word, friends. He did not feel like he had that many close friends still. But a bit of a lack of self control was not going to be a reason for him to lose one.

 

He would have to blame that one on his Lady, it seemed.

 

He bit his lip as his entire body tingled in a way not unlike the shimmer of transformation rushing over his body from tip to tail.

 

There it was.

 

That was his catalyst.

 

_ And Bingo was his, er, her name-o. _

 

Ok. So, for some reason, any thoughts of his… Her, seemed to be causing some rather intense reactions that while he wouldn’t  _ normally _ mind the rush of excitement that seemed to burst forth at the drop of a hat, definitely were not appropriate for an academic setting. Odd, but not unexplainable.

 

It had been a fair while since their last real intense akuma attack, after all. And as he kept reminding himself, he was a boy, and he was only human. They had a joint patrol coming up later that night, so his withdrawal, he’d call it, should be sated later that evening. 

 

He couldn’t really remember a time in the past where anything like this had happened before, exactly, but he was learning new things about himself, and his ring, every day it seemed. Why, a few weeks ago he’d learned he had the ability to purr as Chat Noir. That trait, he discovered, carried over to himself as Adrien, though he needed quite a bit more stimuli, Marinette had brought in a selection of new menu items for the class to try out and for once he’d managed to snag samples of everything and almost wanted to cry afterwards, to really make it happen.

 

_ Marinette… _

 

_ She’s a really good cook. _

 

_ She’s delicious. _

 

_ She’s- _

 

He  _ heard _ himself swallow, heaving in a deep breath through his nose and holding it for a moment, counting to ten, and then let it out slowly through his mouth.

 

Ok. Ok, so Marinette was on his guilty list as well today. That…

 

That wasn’t as explainable. That wasn’t at all as explainable. Neither was the fact that his hands had managed to snake their way up his thighs, still gripping tightly to his pants. Still inching closer and closer to the current problem  _ not _ at hand. Which was also a part of the problem.

 

_ So I’m objectifying not only my partner, but also my sweet and caring classmate… _ He thought for a moment, shuffling through his various classmates and acquaintances in his mind and balking as his mental list only seemed to grow.  _...And my best friends girlfriend… half my class… those three I worked on the shoot with last month…oh… _ Oh boy.

 

Oh.

 

Boy.

 

It was a long list. 

 

His frown was intense. He was grateful that not every face in his mind’s eye drew the same powerful reaction as Ladybug did, or the disturbingly similar one that came from Marinette as well, but the fact that, yes, he could indeed more than  _ enjoy _ thoughts about most of his classmates with so much ease had his stomach turning two ways as he pushed the ghosts of his mind theater as far out of the box office as he could and rushed his inner self into the dressing rooms backstage and under an ice cold shower to shock the thoughts away.

 

If only it worked so easily.

 

Thanking the powers that be for small favors, he was aware enough of his surroundings to see the gate to the mansion swing open as the car pulled up close to the steps. His stomach was churning.

 

He cast his driver a hesitant smile, holding up a hand to wave as he let himself out before the monster of a man could exit the car and bidding him farewell.

 

He rushed up the steps two at a time.

 

He barely paused to nod greetings to a startled Nathalie as he passed her on his way to his room.

 

He wasn’t sure if he was going to be sick, or if it was something else that was nagging at him from the inside out.

 

His door flew open and he dumped his bag unceremoniously next to the door.

 

He hung a sharp right, nearly tripping over his office chair in the process, and threw himself onto his bed.

 

He made it, groaning all of his frustrations into his mattress and halfway expecting to hear some kind of jeering whine for cheese at any moment now that he was alone in his room once again.

 

Adrien waited.

 

A minute or two passed, and still he waited. Five minutes. Maybe ten minutes had stretched on, but still no begging. No griping. No demands for precious, sweet Camembert were made.

 

“Plaag…?” The boy called out, face still muffled by the duvet and mattress. Concern turned to annoyance in an instant. He knew the kwami was ok, so where was he? He huffed, shuffling himself up on his elbows and looking back at where his bag had dropped. “Plagg, if you don’t come out you’re not getting cheese from me for a week. You’ll have to go hunt your own food down from the kitchens yourself.” 

 

He put on his best stern face, something he’d learned with practiced perfection from his own father, but it seemed not even the threat of starvation would be enough to bring his little partner out of hiding. 

 

Or wherever he was.

 

“Fine, I guess I’ll just have to eat it all myself!” He rolled over on the bed, flopping his arms out wide to either side as he landed on his back, staring up at the second floor overhang above his bed.

 

His brow furrowed as stare turned into glare. He couldn't help feeling like the little black cat-fairy-god-thing knew something about what was going on. At the same time, though, he would have put fair money on the feeling being nothing more than his brain trying to pull the embarrassing blame away from himself and dismissing his wandering focus on something out of his control. That would certainly make life so much easier, to be able to saddle the yearning that coiled in his gut onto the shoulders of some quantic magical shenanigans that was just dragging him along for the ride.

 

Closing his eyes he took in the feel of how the covers on his bed bunched up gently around him, curling up barely against his outline and the ever so slightly shift of fabric on fabric as he took in slow, measured breaths. It was almost like meditating. If it weren't for the distant tamp tamp tamp of feet scurrying along the distant hallways of the mansion. The ghostly whispers of half a conversation someone, he'd guess Nathalie, was having over the phone. The much louder but still dampened drip after drip that he knew came from his own shower.

 

The fact that he couldn't turn his ears off only lent to the theory that his current state was somehow related to his ring.

 

So all these thoughts, all these fantasies that kept popping up in his head of actually catching up to Ladybug after their rooftop rendezvous, of his shy classmate becoming suddenly less shy, of… Chloe actually acting on her fawning affections, even…

 

And the not so little thrills and shivered they drew from him…

 

_ It's not my fault… right? _

 

He rolled across the bed, his mind drawn back to the morning, the restless energy at breakfast and the fantasy he'd allowed himself to partake in.

 

The chase.

 

The promise of victory.

 

The way he'd let his hands wrap carefully around his prize, familiar hips snug under his palms as he caught her from behind to send the two of them tumbling to the rooftop in a jumble of black and spotted red.

 

The peel of her laughter rang in his ears like a symphony and he landed them with his back pressed against sun warmed concrete, hugging her tightly against him to just enjoy the way her curves fit perfectly against him. He tucked his nose into the curve of her neck breathing her in deeply and letting loose a contented purr, reveling in the feeling of how tightly the muscles of her back pressed close against his chest, how the curve of her backside, for he was still a gentleman, sat perfectly in the crook of his hips only to slope back up along well toned thighs draped up and over his own like two perfect jigsaw pieces completing the most intimate puzzle.

 

He gave in to the urge to take the tiniest bit of her suit, where red met the black that kept her slender neck barred from the touch of his lips, between his teeth, the quiet gasp he won from the simple action urging him on in the back of his mind. The heat between them had him melting into liquid black beneath her, hugging her tighter against him as he dared let his hips roll against hers, groaning deep in his chest at the slow pressure of friction where the last missing puzzle piece desperately wanted to make contact.

 

The noise his partner made for him was something entirely new, and in an instant, it broke him.

 

Adrien gasped, his palm pressed tightly against the front of his jeans as his whole body jerked against the touch and leaving him panting. The cool air of his room and dampness in his pants bringing him back to a very real reality and far from the all encompassing warmth in his mind.

 

That certainly hadn't taken long. 

 

He was a little bit disappointed.

 

Then again, he'd been riding the edge of the knife all morning, it felt. But he had barely even begun to enjoy that little mind trip.

 

_ I wonder what she really sounds like… _

 

He couldn't find it in himself to feel guilty for that one. Not in the slightest.

 

But he felt better. Immensely better, actually. Like a hot, anxious fog had finally been lifted for the first time that day and he could actually  _ think _ again.

 

He still felt boneless, tossed back on his bed and sprawled out, taking up as much space as one humanly could. It was nice. One hand drifted lazily up against his chest, a finger idly tracing the telltale signature that cut through metallic red as a lazy smile settled across his face. He chuckled.

 

She'd probably kick his ass in the the Seine if she knew what he did.  _ Why does that make me want to do it again? _ There was probably something wrong with him.

 

He didn't care.

 

What he did care about was the rapidly cooling dampness that was beginning to soak it's way through denim and leaving him far less comfortable than the initial steps to producing said mess had moments before. Begrudgingly removing himself from his nest of a bed, he stripped quickly out of his bottoms, casually wiping up his mess and tossed the clothing into his hamper. He was grateful for the chill temperatures of the house as it made momentary contact with his still too heated skin, but it was indeed still chilly and a new set of underwear and pants was just what the doctor ordered.

  
Checking the time there was still a bit before the lunch hour would dismiss classes, and while he  _ could _ technically go back now, he settled instead on setting an alarm for Midway through the break. Enough time to get in a power nap and sleep off the lingering limb lethargy he felt while still being able to socialize before returning to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Who wants to see Adrien's dreams and who wants to just skip to him going back to school?


	7. Worry Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, for something a little bit different!
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter and the next should both be out today, and then we'll return to your regularly scheduled 'Adrien brand turmoil TM'

“Adrien went home to rest.” Was the simple message Marinette delivered to the teacher upon her return to the class presently in session. It was obvious she was displeased it had taken them so long in the first place, and even more so that Marinette had returned without Adrien in tow. That fact bothered the girl. 

****

She was more than happy that she’d managed to convince Adrien to head home early instead of trying to force himself to manage through the day. 

****

Now any day of the year Marinette Dupain-Cheng would preach that Adrien Agreste was quite possibly and most probably the hottest boy to attend her school. But that fact was purely based on subjective personal opinions. Today she was distraught to amend that notion to include objective fact as well. His skin had been more than warm to the touch, a concerning fact considering her own felt like ice on the surface with how chilly had been recently.

****

But no, he had been burning up.

****

She would have put money on the bet that he had a fever, and a bad one at that.

****

And she would have lost money, too.

****

It was upsetting. The symptoms he’d rattled off to her made no sense. He was on fire without a fever, had kept having dizzy spells or fading in and out of reality, he was jittery and anxious and it didn’t seem like he’d eaten much of anything for breakfast if the lack of appetite was accurate too.

****

He fell off his  _ rock _ wall.

****

She sighed, focus entirely lost on the current lesson. For the first time in a long time, all her thoughts were solely on Adrien. Adrien and how she wanted to help him. Of course she had no idea where to actually start other than going over what he’d told her with a fine-toothed comb, but if she rolled the points around in her mind enough times, perhaps she could come up with an angle she hadn’t seen yet.

****

Warm...

****

Dizzy...

****

Anxious...

****

Apetite...

****

Energy...

****

Maybe she could look something up online? If only it weren’t for their eagle-eyed teacher. She had such a vendetta against cell phones, beyond the school’s policies. Legend had it she was the kind of teacher to actually break a student’s phone in extreme cases of agitation. 

****

She glanced at the time on her tablet. There was still a while until lunch, but she could wait. Adrien was going home, after all. Should be home by now, she thought, and once he was home he’d be in good hands. At least she could count on his household to take care of him as. If there was one thing his father was, it was protective, and if his son was any form of ill, she’d expect him to bend over backwards and get his son the help he needed. 

****

Especially if it was some strange rare illness, since she couldn’t pinpoint what it could be.

****

Oh no, what if it  _ was _ some strange illness?

****

And he was in real trouble?

****

What if Adrien got home and he was too weak to tell them what was wrong, and she was the only one who knew his symptoms?

****

He could be dying and she was just sitting here doing nothing!

****

Her leg bounced anxiously under the table and her eyes darted to the door. Maybe she could excuse herself. Go to the bathroom. Transform and go check on him? The Agreste manor wasn’t that far away. She could hop right over and check on him and make sure he was just resting and be back before she was missed, right?

That wasn’t crazy at all, right?

****

_ Right _ ?   
  
She chewed on the end of her stylus, mindful not to crack the plastic and yearning for something more sturdy. A mechanical pencil… Or even a traditional pencil. Something she wouldn’t be able to break beyond usability if her nerves got the better of her.

****

The bathroom was sounding very tempting.

****

Maybe she could just…

****

Scoot to the left a little…

****

Into Adrien’s seat.

****

Marinette eyed the teacher, fully enraptured in her lesson as she pointed out… Oh, something about math… History was well over and she’d completely missed the topic change. She’d have to ask Alya for her notes later. If there was one thing a journalist was good at, it was taking down all the important notes. Said notes had saved her more than a time or two in the past. Alya was truly a blessing.

****

Her feet tamped anxiously under the desk as she flashed another look around the room. Stealth was rarely her strong suit, but it seemed that luck was definitely on her side today. With the teacher distracted, and everyone else either raptly watching the lesson or bored into submission, no eyes were on her as she finally slipped from the seat and scuttled her way down the stairs.

****

With her hand on the door, she caught a fleeting glance from Nino as her movements caught his attention, but he just shot her a quick double finger-guns and turned back to the lesson at hand.  _ When a gal’s gotta go, a gal’s gotta go. _ She could hear his voice in her mind. It wouldn’t have been the first time, either. Impromptu bathroom trips had come in handy on many akuma attacks over the last few years. Most of her friends had just accepted that Marinette had a nervous bladder and you did  _ not _ want to get between her and a bathroom. It was only slightly embarrassing. Just another drawback that came from being a superhero, though.

****

But now she was free, out in the hallway and running a bee-line to the front of the school. She had maybe ten minutes tops before she would be actively missed. At least Nino  _ had _ seen her, so if the teacher did ask, she had a reliable cover story. Not that it would entirely keep her out of trouble, but it was better than just having vanished without any excuse.

****

She hopped over the edge of the steps, landing in the little alcove to the side and snapped open the ever-present pink purse that hung at her side.   
  
“Tikki, I need to go check on Adrien.” She whispered, hoping her tiny companion would be eager to back her up on this.   
  
She was met with a mildly chiding look from the big indigo eyes. “Marinette, don’t you think you’re going a little bit overboard? I’m sure Adrien is just fine.” She offered a reassuring smile, though it did little to quell her chosen’s nerves.

****

“Please, Tikki. Just...” She looked around cautiously, double checking that the area was still, indeed, clear. “Just let me swing by, make sure he’s ok, and then I’ll come right back. I just want to make sure he’s alright.” She pleaded. The kwami knew it was a losing battle. When it came to the model it was rare for Marinette to ever budge. She could give her an ear-full later on.

****

The kwami nodded.

****

Calling for her transformation, she was already counting down the scant few minutes she had to actually peek in on her classmate. Observe. Check-in. Make sure he was indeed alright and not haphazardly passed out in his room and needed attention of some sort while the rest of his household just assumed he was ok. Yes, that was a much more  _ sound _ and  _ rational _ excuse.

****

Reason.

****

Getting to see him again in his  _ natural habitat _ was just a side bonus to her good deed.

****

Perching on the building across the street from the floor to ceiling glass wall into his room it took her barely any time to spot the lone figure changing int-

****

She looked away, a furious blush rising up her cheeks.

****

Pants.

****

_ Down _ .

****

She had, quite literally, caught Adrien Agreste with his  _ pants down _ . Innocently preparing to sleep off the bad feelings from earlier in the day, and here she was,  _ Chat _ ing it up like a peeping tom cat from across the courtyard just because she  _ might _ have super enhanced vision that came from being a  _ hero _ . A hero that spied on innocent teenaged boys. Instead of… well… heroing. Then again, that wasn’t really fair to Chat. He really was a gentleman most of the time, if occasionally a little forward.

****

To her credit, she had not, until then, truly used her powers for evil. And it wasn’t like she  _ intended _ to give herself a looky-loo at the perfect adonis that was her crush. It just sort of…

****

Happened?

****

Her mental clock ticked by, and she spared one more quick glance, taking note of the probably exhausted boy now laying peacefully on his bed.

****

Totally normal. Nothing wrong. Absolutely just resting and nothing more to it.

****

A relieved sigh passed her lips, and she had to concede that Tikki was right. Once again she over reacted and her silly actions were probably going to land her with some kind of note home to her parents about her abuse of bathroom privileges unless luck chose today to be on her side. She had hopes, but she wasn’t going to hold her breath on the matter.

****

_ At least Adrien is ok. _

****

She hummed to herself as she set off back to the school. It was only a hop, skip, and jump away for the hero, and if anyone did happen to see her out and about during school hours it would only help to throw any would-be snoopers off the trail of her as a student there. Hopefully. The day Alya had found her text book he had nearly screamed, thankful that once again she had neglected to sign her name into the tab tucked into the front cover of the book. Sometimes being a bit scatterbrained came in handy. Only sometimes though.

****

Dropping behind the school into another secluded alcove, she dropped her transformation and booked it back towards her classroom, slipping in nearly unnoticed. Nino gave her a casual look, and a few of the other students turned only slightly at her return. But it was a quiet, non-disruptive return.

****

Tipping her head slightly to peer over Alya’s shoulder, the copper-haired girl shifted her textbook to let her friend snag a good look at the page they were on.

****  
A moment later, Marinette resumed class as usual, her teacher seemingly none the wiser.   



	8. Reveal Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kwami Things
> 
> WOO two chapters in one day~
> 
> smallish chapters, but still.

His whole body vibrated. 

****

Or rather, tingled.

****

Maybe _ buzzed  _ was a better term?

****

It was all thanks to Ladybug’s appearance, after all. Oh great, he was starting to sound like the kid. The little black kwami had been drifting anxiously around the manor, keeping his distance from his chosen all morning and trying his damnedest to stay out of the mess of a storm he knew was coming. It was always more fun to observe from the sidelines anyway, after all.

****

But somewhere in Paris, it was  _ spots on _ time, and he really wasn’t ready to deal with the kid coming face to face with his own personal, ugh, wet dream. Plagg made a face. The notion wasn’t even an exaggeration at this point. Why did humans have to be so… so…

****

Gross.

****

Seriously, when you got to be as old as he was, you’d seen it all, and quite frankly the whole thing was just overdone at this point. Bah, whatever.

****

There was a bug on the prowl, though, and he was on a mission.

****

A quick phase through the door to his chosen’s room and another moment to pinpoint his phone, and he was flipping through web pages to the Ladyblog for news on the latest akuma sighting. Only to find out that there wasn’t one. The bug was just out and about. And that was absolutely perfect.

****

A tiny ear flicked in the direction of Adrien’s bed at a particularly vulgar noise that most certainly wasn’t the beds fault. Humans. Why did they do all the weird things they did when it was obvious that cheese was the only thing you needed to be truly happy? He doubted he would ever know. Probably because he had zero desire to actually find out the  _ why _ of it all. Yeah, probably that.

****

The tiny dark figure darted out the window and into the city. If Ladybug was on patrol, he knew where to look. It was the chance he’d been waiting for all morning. And the last few days, but hey, who was counting? Time was an illusion that was only measured in how many wheels of his delicious camembert he had demolished recently, and that answer was almost  _ always _ never enough.

****

He didn’t have to go far, though, when the red spotted blur dashed right into his line of vision, and the black cat kwami had to duck into a tree for cover. “Oh wow, talk about good luck! I need to sneak away from the kid more often.” She was just sitting there, watching him through the window. Huh.

****

That was certainly weird.

****

Well, weirder than normal.

****

Not that he really counted anything as normal when it came to dealing with chosen, but the bar had to be set somewhere. But no, she was just sitting there, watching the kid through the window, plain as day. Oh man, if Adrien spotted her, the look on his face would have been priceless! Probably worth at least three wheels of cheese. 

****

Eh,  _ maybe  _ two, he amended.

****

Now, the look on Adrien’s face when he found out Plagg was totally breaking the rules and following Ladybug until she transformed back to find out who she was, well,  _ that _ would be an expression definitely worth at least  _ five _ wheels of perfectly aged camembert. Not that he really cared about who she was, but in order for him to track down his real target, some sacrifices had to be made. It was just a bonus that it could be counted as being at the kid’s expense.

****

Movement caught his attention again, and he drifted after the figure swinging  through Pari-

****

Or… Landing through Paris. Behind his school, no less. Oh ho ho boy this was going to be  _ so  _ good. Green eyes narrowed in barely bound glee as Plagg floated closer. A pink flash lit up the the little hidden area ahead of him and he hovered in the air, a perfect bird's eye view of the scene before him.

****

An all too familiar figure ran from their hiding spot into the building. Ha, spot.

****

“Oh my god....” He stared at the door where she disappeared for only a moment before bursting into unabashed laughter. “Oh my  _ god,  _ are you  _ kidding me _ ?” He gasped, wiping away tears that pricked the corner of his eyes as he cackled, mid air. “Marin _ ette? _ Right behind him. Right  _ behind him _ from  _ d _ ay  _ freaking  _ one! This is too rich. Ha!” Tiny paws held his stomach as he slowly drifted down to rest on the sill of a window, breath heaving as he chortled himself into a stupor.

****

“Oh my god… ” He shook his head, staring up at the sky. “Adrien’s going to flip when he figures it out.” He snickered.  _ If he figures it out _ . The boy was so dense it was sad sometimes. Well, almost sad. Wiping at his eyes again, Plagg took a few deep, steadying breaths. 

****

Oh boy was the kid in for a rough week. And he thought today was hard.

****

Floating up once more, the little god zipped through the halls of the school, straight through the wall and making a beeline for the spot just under the seat of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also known as Ladybug. He shoved a paw in his mouth to stifle the snickers threatening to return. Stealth was not his strong point. Not by a long shot.

****

Alright, if he were a kwami, which he was, where would he hide?

****

Backpack?

****

A quick zip inside and he was more than certain there wasn’t enough room in there at all, it was so packed full of books and other knick knacks and junk.    
  
Shirt?   
  
He eyed the dark blazer and it’s lack of comfortable pockets. It wasn’t impossible to hover around all day, but it certainly was a pain in the rear, and sickeningly sweet Marinette didn’t seem like the type to just make Tikki float around all willy nilly all day, so that was out.

****

Purse?

****

Well, third time’s a charm, right? He flew up quickly, popping right through the outer layer of the bag and winning a less than stifled shriek from the little red kwami. The shit-eating grin plastered across his face shone with triumph. Bingo.

****

“Sup, sweetcheeks, did ‘ja miss me?” He whispered, far too smug with himself as she bat her paws at him in the small bag, exasperated. The grin only spread across his face in the dark, shining like a cheshire cat’s in all it’s tiny-fanged glory.

****

“Plagg, what are you  _ doing _ here?” She huffed, tossing agitated looks up to the opening of the bag and back to her counterpart. “What’s going on? Did he figure it out?” He reveled in the mixed emotions spiraling across her face. Joy, hesitation, expectation, fear, relief, curiosity. It was hilarious and charming all at once.   
  
“C’mere.” He took her hand and the two of them zipped away, practically invisible to the preoccupied classroom, making their way out into the deserted hallway.

****

“Well?” Tikki tugged him to a stop once they were safely out of earshot. She was more than familiar with his antics, pinning him with a critical eye. As sweet as she could be, the ladybug kwami was, if nothing else, a force to be reckoned with when angered.   
  
“What, no hello kiss?” The cheeky sprite crinkled the corner of his eyes in amusement, pulling her into a quick little hug even as she bat at him once again. Heaving a sigh, he  _ was _ rewarded with her cheek pressing against his in a quick nuzzle before being buffeted away indignantly.   
  
“Plagg, this is serious.” She glared lightly at him. “If it weren’t you wouldn’t have bothered with it, so tell me,  _ what _ are you  _ doing _ here?”

****

“Right, right. So, you know that thing that tends to happen with pretty much every one of my chosen?” He shrugged, expecting her to pick up on his non-committal answer. “That. That’s what I’m doing here.” 

****

“That really doesn’t narrow it down.” She said, unamused. Was she really going to make him say it? Geez, always so picky.   
  
“Fine. Ok. So. The thing.” He waved a paw, looking off to the side. “You know. With the thoughts, and the touching, and the… stuff...”  He shot a glance back at her. She was still staring at him, patiently. “The  _ thing _ . You know.  _ That. _ ” He frowned. She arched a brow, the edge of her forehead spot curving upwards slightly instead.

****

“The… weird… human mating thing… ” He grumbled. There. He said it. Happy now? “It started a few days ago technically, but it got bad for the first time this morning. Kid’s sleeping it off at home right now.” He was thankful for the dark fuzz covering him head to tail, saving him from his own embarrassing heat that burned over his cheeks at the gasp of realization he heard from Tikki.   
  
“I was wondering how long it was going to take!” She clapped her paws in front of her, eyes dazzling for a moment before she stopped short. “Wait, a few days ago?” She floated closer to him, coming nose to nonexistent nose with him. “Why didn’t he say something about it on patrol the other night, then, hmm?”

****

He drifted farther away from her, resting his paws behind his head casually. “Eh, didn’t seem too important at the time. He’ll figure it out.” He grinned. “Eventually.”   
  
“You haven’t  _ told him _ yet, have you!” She flited after him, not letting him avoid her agitated glare.

****

“Nah, it’ll be fun! And maybe they’ll finally figure each other out, too.” He grinned a wicked grin. “Come ooooon, you know you wanna see them be all mushy and gross together. You’re such a sucker for all that stuff. You’ll thank me later.” He leaned back, drifting lazily away from her.

****  
She snatched his tail out of the air and yanked him back her way, more than a little pissed. “You had better tell your chosen what’s going on, or I’ll pop your whiskers right off your face!” To emphasize, she let go of his tail and snagged one of the thing wiggly strands, pulling him even closer. “You will  _ not _ put Marinette in danger just for a few chuckles. Do I make myself clear?”   
  
He frowned, pushing her away and freeing his definitely not detachable tendril. He knew. She’d tried in the past. “Re _ lax _ , Tikki. My boy wouldn’t do anything to her like that. He’s already head over heels for the girl, and even like this he’s got a good enough head on his shoulders to keep his nose clean.” He waved a paw at her, already drifting away. “You worry too much.”   
  
It was about time for him to head back to the house anyway. He’d let her get her antenna out of whatever knot they’d wound themselves into and revisit the subject later. Lord knew he didn’t want to be cooped up around the house right now, anyway.    
  
She tackled him from behind, clinging to him tightly in a small but fierce hug. “And you don’t worry nearly enough.” Tikki grumbled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, still upset with the startling turn of event, but still, it had been decades since they’d seen each other last.    
  
“Aw, you do care.” He grinned softly, turning and placing a returned kiss on the spot on her forehead as he departed. “I’ll keep an eye on the brat. But like I said, he’s a good kid.”   



	9. It Was Only a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did it end up like this?
> 
>  
> 
> ... I'm not gonna make it a habit to use song lyrics as chapter titles, but I felt this was fitting.

A tiny, warm weight settled on his forehead, pulling the once sleeping boy through a rush of fog and out of the miraculous dream his subconscious had been far more than eager to indulge in. Again he woke up far too warm, but he was beginning to get used to the stuffy sensation.  
  
“Hey kid, your alarm’s been screaming at you for the last ten minutes.” Tiny paws tamped against his brow, urgent for his attention. His eyes snapped open, catching sight of Plagg drifting up and away from him now that he had returned to the land of wakefulness. “Either get up like you apparently wanted to or shut the thing off, it’s driving me crazy.” His hands were clamped over his ears as he glared at Adrien’s phone like it was the cause of all of his worldly problem.

Taking stock of his person, the blonde rolled to the side, fishing for his misplaced phone and bringing an end to the shrill beeping that somehow hadn’t pierced his wonderful dreamland. A few more moments of staring off in an easily controlled daze gave him enough time to gather his thoughts and contemplate the pros and cons of actually going back to sleep. It certainly would be an enjoyable option. The backlash he’d receive from Nathalie, and probably his father, wouldn’t though.

_Ten minutes, huh?_

That wasn’t so bad. He could still make it back to class on time. But lunch would have to be to-go at that point.  
  
“Alright, alright. I’m up.” He was not up. He was, in fact, stretching out across the dark covers of his bed in every which way he could possibly manage. The temporary tenseness juxtapose the absolutely boneless relaxation that came after a good stretch was such a _good_ feeling. Not unlike the burn after a good long run, but nothing like it at the same time. Bodies were so strange sometimes.

_Mine especially today_ , he thought. But he felt better. That itchy antsyness was gone, and he could already tell his brain was far less clouded, his focus was _there_ and he didn’t feel like he was about to drive himself insane. But he was _still_ warm. Not unbearably so, but it was still _there_.

Rolling himself to the edge of his bed, he slipped up into a sitting position to pull his shoes back on. He listened carefully. Somewhere in the house two sets of footsteps meandered, one more franticly than the other.

Well, that was still there too.

 

 

_He barely had time to see the attack coming, the blast making impact and flinging him from the top of The Tower and straight into free-fall. This was nothing new, but the lack of fear in the fall was. Even with their powers, battles that far up held a definite danger. The duo had never tested how much fall damage they could really take, having left it at a few stories and not wanting to push it too much farther. They knew that sometimes the miraculous cure couldn’t take care of all of their injuries, but between the protection from their armor and the magical healing, it usually took care of most of it. Thankfully neither had incurred any serious damage so far, but it was always a worry._

_Or almost always._

_The wind whipped past Chat Noir’s ears, the ground rushing up at him faster with each dragging second, but he couldn’t be bothered to worry._

_He knew he’d be safe._

_The coil of cord wrapped around his form an instant later, slowing his descent and hauling him skyward again. Ladybug had him. And that made his heart pound far faster than their previous battle had managed._

 

 

He was in the kitchen, the family chef scrambling to make him an adequate to-go meal while keeping within the constraints of his diet. His lack of appetite earlier that day left a bit more wiggle room as he watched the construction of a mouth-watering sandwich. Bread and other high carbohydrate foods were often completely off menu, but circumstances as they were allowed for the temporary addition, and Adrien could not complain in the slightest.

Of course he understood the need for his diet, to some extent anyway, but that did nothing to keep him from craving all the things he wasn’t _supposed_ to have. _Like Ladybug._

_Down, me. We took care of that already, right? Chill._ That pesky inner dialogue seemed to be around still too. He cast a casual glance at his pocket, content to see the barely noticeable bulge that indicated that, yes, Plagg was actually around this time.

A quick request for some Camembert on the sandwich and the secret duo made their way to the front. The Gorilla was ready with the car, and the journey back to school could commence.

 

 

_His ascent slowed and he came swinging to a stop, suspended at the belt by one of the vaulted beams of the tower. Ladybug dropped down in front of him, her serious expression fading into that ever-confident smirk that pulled at his heartstrings._  
  
_“It looks like I can’t stop falling for you, my Lady.” He grinned and she laughed. The akuma was long forgotten._  
  
_“That’s an awfully bad habit, chaton.” She tapped his nose, just hard enough to cause him to swing slightly. His grin only widened at her playfulness. “I guess there are worse ones, though.”_  
 _  
That caught him. Much in the way her hand caught the edge of his collar, tugging him face to face with her._

 

 

A smile pulled at his lips. It might have been just a dream, but any chance he could make his partner laugh was one he held dear. Buildings passed by and he neared the school. It had been a strange morning and now lunch was nearly over, but today was still looking up. If he were to be honest, he really needed that extra nap. Hawkmoth had been slightly more active lately, but so had his shoot scheduling. Between the increase in both areas, his personal relaxation time had been drastically reduced. He wasn’t exhausted, but he had been tired.

But boy, had his dream been refreshing.

The car pulled to a stop and he bid farewell to his driver for a second time that day. Other students were still milling about outside, and he saw his usual trio of friends hovering near the entrance doors. The three of them were huddled close, whispering conspiratorially but sharing the occasional chuckle. He wondered what they were talking about…

He wondered if they wouldn’t mind him sneaking his way into the middle of the group and making himself the center of a cuddle pile.

That… was an odd idea. Definitely not an unpleasant one. And he did still have to thank Marinette for helping him out to the nurse earlier. What better way than a wonderful warm hug.

And maybe a kiss. Kisses were nice too.

His feet remained planted where he stepped out of the car, though. Just as he feared the odd little _pleasant_ invasive thoughts were still hanging around. His hand gripped tight to the strap of his bag as he prepared for his approach. _Hey, everyone. Yep, I’m back, and I feel much better now. Turns out I just needed a bit more sleep and something to actually eat. I kind of skipped most of breakfast this morning. No, no, I’m fine, I promise. Thank you, Marinette, for helping me earlier. I really appreciate it! Cue charming smile._

He ran over the speech in his head a few more times. Very straightforward. He could do this. No one wants hugs. No one wants cuddles. And certainly, no one wants kisses.

_I want kisses._

_DOWN, me._

 

 

_She smirked at him._

_“You look like a piñata.” A light tug on her string was all it took to make him bob in the air. Her chuckle could have sent him soaring, though._

_“And here I thought you wanted to play cat’s cradle.” His grin spread wide, only inches between them as he took in every hazy feature he could. It was a shame that as soon as he tried to focus she’d always start to fade away. Still, he could trace the edges of her mask, count the freckles he knew were there but the number would always end up jumbled, different every time. He could try to pinpoint the exact shade of blue that swirled in her eyes._

_Warm, like the delicate petals of bluebells under the sun._

_Deep, like the darkest hues of a summer sky._

_Bold, like the richest blue topaz he could remember._

_Soft, like her powder pink lips as the pressed against his._

_Fierce, like the heat of battle._

_Gentle, like the tug of her hand, drawing him closer._

 

 

A different hand was tugging him down, latched around his arm as he let his daydream flourish. The sounds of the morning began to fade back in as his mind brushed away the inner musings despite his poorer judgement to indulge.

The sensation of a warm, slightly sticky heat pressed to his cheek, just for a moment, and he let out a content sigh at the imprint of lip gloss that lingered behind. It seemed something was playing in his favor today. A bit of _ask_ and ye shall _receive_ was a nice change of pace.

With a happy hum he turned to greet his obliging assailant with a dip of his head. Equally blonde hair registered in his mind as he returned the afternoon greeting, planting a not too quick kiss upon Chloe’s cheek. The resulting noise, a mix between a gasp and a strangled squeak, had his head snapping back up in an instant.

Or was that a gasp _and_ a strangled squeak?

Sabrina took a step behind his long time friend, a term used somewhat loosely as of late, gaping as the shorter blonde’s arm detangled from Adrien and began dabbing her cheek and patting at the neatly curled wisp of hair that often framed her face.  
  
“ _Adrikins,_ how _could_ you!” The accusation and outrage in her voice was far milder than he’d expected, his hands flying up in front of him to ward off any possible advances the posh fashionista might have flung his way, but her indignation was visibly tempered by the rash of pink managing to poke through layers of concealer and toner. “Do you have _any_ idea how long it takes to manage such a _masterpiece?_ I mean, out of _anyone_ here I assume _you_ of all people would...” She turned away, shoulders pinched up as she barked an order for Sabrina to go ahead and get the emergency touch-up kit from her locker.  
  
“I’m sorry, Chlo..” He began, blinking and gently settling his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to placate her diminishing rage. “I didn’t mean to… uhm...” _Kiss you back?_ The moment finally settled in his brain, and yes, he had indeed not only allowed the often rebuffed attempts to lay her claim on him, but he’d reciprocated the action. In front of… well, a good chunk of students. “... Mess up your makeup?” That was the issue here, right?

He hoped so anyway. The two of them went way back, and he _did_ have quite a few memories of her declaring him her prince charming, the two of them running through the halls of her father's hotel, fighting invisible bad guys and more often than not saving each other through silly childhood kisses. She never seemed to mind then, but the reaction he got now…

Well, it left him confused.

For more than a few reasons.

“Whatever.” She huffed, pulling out of his hands and stomping away from him, leaving him with his thoughts. She didn’t seem mad, per say, but she was definitely frustrated. His brow pulled down in consternation. It looked like that was another point for whatever the hell was going on with him.

A quick glance around confirmed that, yes, just about everyone that had been lingering on the steps had seen space-case self engage in quite the off-brand bout of PDA with possibly the most reviled girl at school. No, he wasn’t that oblivious to Chloe’s standings among her classmates. Yes, he did realize that his little faux pas had caused a minor continental shift for everyone that bore witness as well.

In fact, Pangea seemed to be breaking apart into seven separate land-masses among his three closest friends right before his eyes.

“What the hell was _that_ ?” Came the indignant bellow from his long time bro. Of the three, Nino was the first to find his voice after the display, bounding away from the two girls and hopping down the steps in just a couple of bounds. Adrien stood, wide-eyed, as the boy nearly collided with him, hands on _his_ shoulders this time, as he looked on like a deer caught in headlights. “If everybody else wasn’t _staring_ too, I’d have thought I just hallucinated you _kissing_ Chloe friggin Bourgeois. Tell me she’s blackmailing you. Please tell me that you’ve been hiding some kind of deep dark secret that would threaten your sweet, sweet innocence and the only way to keep the evil witch’s mouth shut is a ransom in-” He made a gagging noise.”- Kisses.”  
  
It looked like the boy was going to be sick. Adrien wasn’t entirely sure how much was him playing it up, and how badly he was actually taking the lip-slip.

“I…” He didn’t have an explanation. The only thing that he could muster while he did his best impersonation of a fish was that he really, _really_ wanted a kiss, and when the opportunity had presented itself, he reacted.

And he knew that wouldn’t fly.

Fate saved him, though. Or condemned him. He wasn’t quite sure anymore. Alya was fast approaching, and Adrien at least had enough wits about him to harness the scant shreds of self preservation he had within him to backpedal out of his best bro’s grasp, once more putting his hands up defensively to ward off the raging redhead.

“Agreste!” Alya, in that moment, could only be described as a molten ball of fire. “What _the hell_ was that? Are you two a _thing_ now? When did this happen?” She pushed past Nino, stepping straight into his personal space and bringing him nose to nose with her ire. The cause of its intensity completely lost on him. As was a good chunk of his brain’s functionality.

“It’s not- _we’re_ not-” She was pressed right up against him. The flat of her stomach leaned hard against his own, the swell of her chest causing him to lean back just slightly. Even staring death in the face, he couldn’t deny that it felt absolutely delightful.  
  
He panicked.

“ _Look!_ We’re not _like_ that.” It came out fast, too fast. He took another step back from her and crossed every finger he could that she’d hold in her attack. “We’re just _friends._ I just.. I zoned out again. I didn’t mean to, I just...” He whined, missing the near full body contact and praying the sound that fell from his mouth would appear born out of frustration and remorse rather than need. “... Reacted.”  
  
He looked to Nino briefly, pleading. The contemplative shrug he was offered did little to reassure him. The jury was still out.  
  
“You just ‘reacted’?” Alya scoffed at the truth. Partial truth. She jabbed a finger to his chest and he shuffled back another half step. “Don’t you _dare_ turn playboy on us, pretty boy.” Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses for a moment and she huffed. Spinning on her heels she nudged Nino’s shoulder as she passed, sharing a look with him that Adrien couldn’t decipher, and continuing back up the stairs.

“Dude...” There was a flash of hesitation, the other boy looking him up and down, a strange mix of concern and, do Adrien’s horror, mild disappointment in the scrutinzation. He felt his stomach drop. As his friend turned to follow his partner, Adrien knew he screwed up, and badly.

He just couldn’t figure out _how_.


	10. Good, Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loose lips sink ships... or help them set sail?
> 
>  
> 
> NOT as long as I wanted it, but it's time to get this ball rolling. the pace will hopefully pick up a little bit from here on out, not QUITE as much of a direct play by play of every hour of the day for our little catson.

His friends reactions hit him like lightning and the stupor that followed rolled over him like a wave of thunder. He’d expected to get teased, maybe some confused looks, or even a look or two of disgust and some mock retching from Alya, but nothing like the wall of indignant rage and disappointment he was met with. While he hadn’t been close to Chloe in years, her attitude towards her fellow classmates having done quite a number on his own views of her since he started attending public school, he still tolerated her as a friendly acquaintance most days. 

He gripped the strap of his bag tightly, staring at the vacant spot where the two stood in front of him a moment ago, mentally rebuilding an after image his brain desperately tried to deconstruct for any hints of  _ why. _

Lips pulled in a tight line and eyes wide, he cast a glance behind him. His escape route had already pulled away, and the only options he had now were to continue on towards the school, or make the active choice to turn around and walk away. The longer he stood there, the more appealing the later seemed.   
  
_ Thought I was past the awkward social fuck-ups… _ __   
  
The notion ran dryly through his mind. He definitely wasn’t the perfect teenager in any sense of the word, but socially he’d gotten used to having friends and had learned pretty quickly many of the do’s and don’t’s of high school life. Not all of them, though, as whatever it was he’d done had…   
  
__ Stop dwelling. He chided himself. He knew better than to linger, and he sucked in a deep breath. He couldn’t stand in front of the school all day, shell shocked into a statue, after all.

The halting of movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A hand full of feet away, Marinette stared him down. He straightened up immediately, swallowing hard and expecting another fly-by verbal railing. He tried to tell his heart to slow down. He’d just managed through two quick rounds, what was one more? And it was Marinette. She’d probably go easiest on him. Adrien realized with a start that he didn’t want her to ‘go’ on him at all.

“Adrien…?” Her words weren’t laced with the sharp tones of accusation the others had carried. It sounded like she was almost hesitant in her approach. 

A small tilt of his head brought his eyes to meet hers, and his relief was instant. Slight, but instant. Her brows were pinched together, but the small frown that brought creases to her face mimicked the look of concern she’d given him earlier that day in the hallway. There was something more too it, but it was an emotion bubbling just far enough below the surface he wasn’t able to put his finger on it. Whatever it was, though, had him sure that if he were his cat-like counterpart in that instant, his ears would have drooped. He muttered out a soft apology. He really wished he knew what for.

“W-what?” Marinette’s brows flew up into her hairline as he ducked his head slightly. “Why? You didn’t...” She stopped, hands flailing in front of her and searching for the right words to berate him, probably. With a huff, they balled into fists and he braced for what was coming, his shoulders tensing along his back.   
  
“That,” Her arm shot out, pointing to where Nino and Alya had disappeared inside. “Was totally out of line.” She exploded into a flurry of animated movements, talking with her hands and leaving Adrien stunned yet again for the upteenth time since he’d woken up that day. “I mean, seriously, way over the top. I mean I  _ know _ Alya can be a little, uh, e-extra sometimes, but that was completely uncalled for. I can’t believe Nino hopped right in there  _ with _ her. Ok maybe I can, a little b-bit, b-but still.” She tossed out a laugh, small, stuttered, nervous. 

His inner Chat drooped further. What she was saying now was most likely not what she’d wanted to say. Again. 

It was something he’d noticed a long time ago, whenever she came up to him, some form of determination in her eyes, the words she’d have prepared beforehand would die at the gate and she’d fly into a rambling mess. She probably had wanted to berate him as well, but decided to take pity on him.   
  
“It’s ok, Marinette… I  probably deserved that.” He cast her a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting from one foot to the other, subtly away from her. “It happens.”   
  
“No!” The insistence of the word made him jump, and he stared at her. “I mean, uh, it wasn’t… You didn’t.” She was talking with her hands again. Or well, fidgeting in a grand manner, to be more precise. “It wasn’t your fault. If it was  _ anybody's _ fault it was mine.”  _ Not Chloe’s? _ He thought? ”They shouldn’t have yelled you like that. Alya shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”  She trailed off and dropped her gaze. Her cheeks seemed somewhat more pink than before, but he couldn’t tell if it was the embarrassment from the situation, or the effort she’d exerted in defending him after the fact.   
  
“Why yours?” He shifted towards her, dipping his head down to catch what he could of her expression. She looked so dejected for an instant. So tired. Blue eyes flashed up to his and she turned her whole body away.  “I mean… It’s not like  _ you’re _ the one that-” He made a face. ”Kissed Chloe.”    
  
Reminded of that he made an exaggerated motion of wiping his lips with a small sound of disgust, and smeared the sticky patch of lip gloss from his cheek with the back of his hand. He couldn’t help the timid smile that crept to his lips as Marinette balked, returning her own grimace in his direction and putting a hand to his chest. She pushed him a half step back, her frown only growing in the most exaggerated look of revulsion he had seen on her in a long while.

“I will never be able to kiss those lips now. You’ve ruined it. Rest in pieces.”

Both froze a beat after the silence hit. The repulsed look on Marinette’s face morphed into one of mortification. While she was still looking up at him, it was pretty obvious that she had effectively checked out for the moment. Another patented Mari-ism he’d come to be familiar with over the last few years. And yet, as it registered that his friend was in a momentary far off land of her own, he couldn’t help but wonder if her temporary mental journeys were anything like his own today.

Because her words had sent him on a trip of his own.   
  
It was obvious she was teasing. He knew that. He knew that, he did. The four of them had joked around many times about casual kissing, getting married to each other in any number of combinations, how it was obvious Nino would be the big spoon in their bromance and other teen jokes that skirted on the playground safe side of sexual, because hey, they were teenagers.    
  
The thought of kissing Marinette had not, until today, crossed his mind before. In fact, in most of their joking, she rarely got paired up with anyone. And even less so with him. The handful of times he remembered flashed through his brain, the flustered girl vehemently declining and the rest of the group laughing at her antics. She was always so over the top, it just fit. He thought it was charming how expressive she could be, but it never hurt his feelings.    
  
The thought of kissing Marinette had not, until today, seemed quite as appealing as it did right now, either. Her lips looked so soft. Delicate and full and  _ there _ . A beautiful petal pink, slicked with a fading gloss of her own. Or perhaps a flavored balm. Did she wear lipstick? He could probably find out in an instant if he wanted to.

_ If he wanted to. _

_ Was that an actual question? _

Would she push him away if he closed the distance between them to sample her choice in makeup for himself? What did she wear?   
  
_ Oh god, what if it’s nothing at all… _ __   
__   
Could lips look that inviting all on their own? The gentle curve of barely parted lips beckoned to his own. She could stop him. Any resistance at all and he would halt.    
  
_ I should ask… _ __   
  
He leaned forward, the lax hand at his chest splaying easily against him as he moved.    
  
_ I should  _ ask…   
  
Her elbow buckled without strain, and he could  _ smell _ the lingering traces of pastries on her breath. Or was that on her person. Neither would have surprised him.   
  
_ I  _ should  __ ask…

His foot inched forward as his balance shifted, and he tilted his head down a final fraction, making contact.

_ I should’ve asked. _ __   
__   
Barely touching, his lips brushed hers in the ghost of a caress and pulled back a second later. Wide blue eyes were staring directly at him, no longer lost in their own world. He knew in that moment that, at least for himself, he had fucked up, because god how he wanted more.    
  
Marinette’s mortification had morphed into pure shock, and he scrambled for salvation. What would Chat do, what would Chat do, what would Chat-

“Still think they’re ruined?” He winked.  _ Fuck. I’m going to die. Right now, I am going to die. What have I done, oh my god. Stupid, stupid, idiot. _ This wasn’t a fantasy. This wasn’t some stupid day dream he could freely get lost in. This wasn’t something he’d be able to sweep under the bridge. This was Marinette. This was real. This was his  _ friend _ and he had potentially just ruined everything. And yet he  _ still _ wanted  _ more. _

_ Lipstick or nothing. _ __   
__   
He’d gotten the answer to his question, at least.    
  
Her face was red. It brought out the brilliance of her eyes something wonderful. She was gaping at him. She looked adorable. She wasn’t moving. Her hand was still spread warm against his chest. She wasn’t breathing.

Wait, was she breathing?   
  
“M-marinette?” He spoke softly, leaning farther back and gently taking her hand in his. His mind was still reeling, the consequences of his actions playing a million different scenarios in his mind. He was disappointed in how many of them were ending badly, though. His conscience didn’t seem to have too many problems with his recent actions.

Forcing himself to focus on the ones that ended with their friendship going up in flames, he pushed the girl's lips from his mind, locking eyes with her and shoving down the satisfaction in his chest to bring what shreds of worry he could manage to the surface. It worried him, how much of a struggle it was.   
  
“Marinette.” He said a little louder, squeezing her hand. Her head snapped down, and then back up to his face, the redness of her cheeks still firmly in place. “I’m sorry, that was a bad joke.” He tried to look remorseful. Operative word being tried. He had quite literally stolen a kiss, and he could barely tamp down the smug sense of accomplishment of it having been real. Not just another fantasy, even as brief as it was.   
  
“Good.” She squeaked, babbling on. “You’re good. Good good, very good. All good, super good, great even, ha ha.” The floodgates were open, and she continued, turning mechanically from his hands and walking stiff-legged towards the stairs. “Absolutely good. Amazing. Stupendous. Perfect. Peachy keen. Tip top. Cat’s meow, bee’s knees, cream of the crop good.”

Oh no.

He really had broken her.

Hesitantly he followed after her as she spouted different phrases all denoting the, for some reason, positive outcome of his bit of lip thievery, all the way back in to class. Alya was going to murder him.  


End file.
